I Won't Fall
by amityglader00
Summary: Sydney is the first girl to ever arrive in the box, but she isn't received with open arms. At all. She quickly discovers how difficult it will be to ever be accepted in the Glade. She must go through a trial of her own, while keeping her eye on another Glader. A very overused plot with a slight twist. ;) Rated T just in case. I would love it if you gave it a shot!
1. Unwanted Company

The violent shaking and rattling of the box messes with my sense of balance. I do not remember anything before this box. In an overwhelming way, I fear that there may never be anything but this quaking metal cage, determined to knock me off my feet. There is no light. No noise either. Just the creaking of this stupid, creepy, metal contraption. I hate it. I hate who did this to me. With all of my power, I will this earthquake to end. Or at least, let me remember something. Anything. In frustration, I bang my fists against the cool, metal wall. What is driving me insane more? The incessant rattling and darkness of this box? Or the fact that I remember nothing?

Suddenly, all motion stops. There's no more creaking, just a gentle sway as the box steadies itself, after what feels like a lifetime of moving. Without warning, light spills in from a tiny crack at the top of the box. It hurts my eyes. But at the same time, I don't think I've ever been happier to see beautiful light. The crack at the top of the box grows, until it stops completely, leaving a generous amount of space for me to leave. If I wasn't so motion sick, I could climb out of this torturous place. Two sets of grubby arms thrust through the opening and grope for something. I'm sure that they're going to attack me. I scooch the whole way to the back of the box, further into the remaining darkness. Through the glare of the harsh sun, I see a head pop into view. It's a boy; his hair blond hair is tousled, the look on his face is utter confusion.

"I don't believe this klunk," the boy directs at the other boy, I presume, a thick British accent coating his words, "It's a shuckin girl!" He has a wild grin on his face, he says it like he can't believe his words. I don't understand why my gender is such a big deal. I move from a crouch into a kneel. Maybe they won't hurt me. Just maybe, they can give me answers or get me out of here.

"Impossible," another voice interjects; it's deep, and something about the way he speaks makes me recognize that he is in charge. "There's never been a girl, and there won't be one." An African boy peers over the side at me. Shock registers on his face. His mouth drops slightly open. "No," he mutters, seemingly to himself, "I don't believe it. A girl?"

The boy with blond hair curtly nods. He seems to thoughtfully consider the situation. "Um, what are we supposed to do with a bloody girl?" He says quietly.

Somewhere within me, I find sudden burst of courage. This situation is going nowhere. If I want to be free, I have to take some measures. I am getting out of this box. Right now.

"I know what you can do with me," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Both boys' heads whip back in my direction. Apparently, they thought I couldn't hear or speak. They say nothing, but continue to stare with wide eyes.

"I said," I put more emphasis in my words, "I know what you can do with me."

"And just what is that, Greenie?" The blond boy finally asks.

I only hesitate for a moment. "Get me out of this bloody hunk of metal, that's what!" I spit at them; I even adopted the blond boy's slang.

The dark skinned one shrugs. He faces blondie again. "What do you think, Newt? Should we yank her out?"

Now it's blondie's, or Newt's, turn to shrug. "Guess so. Why not?" He grins, and I am filled with relief. I am escaping this box.

Four hands reach down in, and I move forward quickly, latching onto their arms, and almost pulling my body the whole way out by myself. I blink in the harsh sunlight, after so much time in the darkness. What I see surprises me, though I guess nothing should really surprise me anymore. I am standing in the center of a ring of grubby boys. They all appear to be about my age, whatever that may be. Some are younger, some are older. They all wear dirty, worn clothes, and most have their arms crossed. I receive a variety of different responses to my arrival. Disgust, pleasure, confusion, and uninterested stares, to name a few. The African boy and Newt stand behind me. Everyone looks unsure how to react. I would definitely feel more comfortable if I wasn't the only girl, but there aren't any other females to be seen. In fact, these dirty teenage boys are the only people I see. My gaze darts around an area of green with small buildings in the distance. Everything is surrounded by gray walls coated in ivy. I feel like I should say something. I begin with, "Um, hi." No one says hi back. "I don't mean to sound dumb, but where exactly am I?"

An Asian boy in the circle shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He is tall and muscular, with short black hair. He would definitely be cute if he was smiling. He clears his throat and his hands seem to fidget. I wait expectantly.

"Welcome to the Glade, Greenie. Welcome to the Glade." He doesn't seem to want me here.

"I'm Alby," the African boy informs me, "I'm in the one in charge here." It was definitely his voice I heard earlier. "Do you have any memories? Maybe you know why the Creators sent you here?" He seems especially hopeful.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Why am I here? I don't even know where here is! I don't know anything. I'm practically helpless, and I'm the one who should be asking questions!" Everything gushes out at once, like a dam being broken. "Look, I'm sorry to mess up you're whole boys-only system, but I'm not particularly thrilled myself." I scuff my feet in the flat grass. Great first impression. A temper tantrum.

Alby clenches his teeth and continues, "Look. I understand that you are frustrated. But everyone eventually gets over this stage. Just do what I say and you'll be fine. Got it?"

"Got it," I grumble."Now," Alby clears his throat, "Since this is a first for all of us," His gaze sweeps the rest of the circle. "I've gotta decide what to do with you, Greenie."

"Please," I look him in the eye, "Stop calling me Greenie."

"Sorry, but until you remember your name, I can promise you, we'll all continue to call you Greenie. Now, stop interrupting."

I silently glare.

As Alby quietly converses with Newt, I gaze around the circle of dirty boys staring at me. Nothing spectacular. Just average teenage guys. My eyes rest on the Asian boy, who stares steadily back at me. I wish someone would say something else. I feel like an object on display.

"Okay, Greenie, listen up," Alby grunts, interrupting my thoughts, "You've pretty much messed up our system. Big time. We're going to have to call a meeting of the Keepers to determine what to do with you. Your name will come back to you soon. Oh, and, I'm putting you under guard." He gazes around the group of young men. "Newt, Minho." The Asian boy narrows his dark eyes. "You two will be alternating shifts guarding this girl in the slammer. Frypan, get her something to eat." Only one dark skinned boy wanders off into the green expanse that is the Glade. Frypan, possibly? Everyone else continues to stare at me like I'm a slab of meat. I don't like it; I fidget nervously under their stares.

"What are you all looking at?" I glare. "Haven't you ever seen a girl before?" Most of the boys' faces flush; their eyes drop to the ground. Others, Minho included, continue to stare.

Alby comes to my rescue. "Newt and Minho, take her to the slammer. Decide who's guarding first. Since you'll both attend the Gathering, we'll have it tomorrow. Everyone else, GET BACK TO WORK." He says it with force, and all he boys scatter in different directions, most heading toward the homely shacks. Newt, who I notice has a limp, lopes his way toward me, a grim expression on his pale face.

"Let's go," he mutters. For some reason, it serves as a reminder that the upcoming days will not be pleasant. Minho joins us, walking close to my left side.

"You're a girl," he mumbles, sizing me up from my head to my toes.

"What tipped you off?" I say, and smile innocently. As we're walking, the dizziness from the box is slowly wearing away.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." He deadpans. No one says anything for why feels like forever.

"Did I really mess everything up?" I wonder aloud. In the distance I see a small building with only one door. The slammer.

"Nah," Minho sighs. Newt nods his head in agreement. "Alby's just stressed. Louis died yesterday."

"Oh," I awkwardly say, "Sorry." It feels insincere. We've reached the slammer. I can't believe I'm being jailed for just showing up.

"We're here," Minho states, as if it weren't obvious.

"Yay." My dry sense of humor does nothing to lighten the heavy mood.

"In ya go, Greenie," Newt sighs. I cross the threshold of the building and step into a dank, dark room that eerily reminds me of the box. At least it isn't swaying. After surveying the musty room, I notice that the only thing in here is a tiny bench. It's definitely not big enough to sleep on. The door thumps shut behind me, making the room even darker. I hear the two boys discussing things outside. I rush to the window.

"Hey, Greenie," Minho says, noticing me standing by the window. "I'm on first watch."

I smile blandly. "Yay again."

"Aww, come on! We'll have lots of fun!" His voice drips with sarcasm.

"I'm sure." His cute pouting face is hard to not smile at. I have to remind myself that I am in no position to be smiling, anyway.

"You'll see, whoever you are. Sorry, I don't know you're name."

"Still workin on that," I mumble.

"It takes time," He says encouragingly. I don't reply. Instead, I just lean my back against the wooden door and tilt my head back, eyes closed, thinking about how I just moved from one cage to another. Minho and I don't talk for a long while.

Finally, I hesitantly whisper, "Minho?"

He yawns. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry that I'm not a boy." I mean it, too.

There's a few seconds of silence, before I hear a soft chuckle from the other side of the door. I can almost hear him smiling as he whispers, "I'm not."


	2. A Rude Awakening

**Okay, so apparently, you have to add the author's note before you upload the chapter. I had no idea, so here is the beginning and ending author's notes that in had planned for chapter one. Sorry for the confusion, I'm new here. ****J**

**Beginning: This is before Thomas and Teresa. They won't be in this fanfic. **

**Hi, readers! Okay, so if you read my profile, I said that I wouldn't really upload anything until I was seriously working on it. So this is going to be the first time I ever uploaded anything. I had a THG story going (never uploaded), but I felt so compelled to do a TMR fanfic, so he here is the first chapter. And, maybe this doesn't follow the book or movie, but this is how I picture it, so sorry. Also, you don't need to correct me about it. I know it's not exactly the same. Oh, and I know, I know, the plot of this story is SO overdone. But I am a sucker when it comes to girl meets maze fanfics, so sorry, but here is mine. **

**Disclaimer: I obviously do not own anything from The Maze Runner. Kudos to James Dashner for his awesome idea!**

**Ending: Okay, so that was a lot longer than I was planning! Hope you liked it! If you any comments, ideas, or suggestions, just tell me in the reviews! I would love to hear them! **

**Thanks to Spectrobesprincess. I am using her idea of quote of the day. Here it is!**

**"****Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have." Hermione Granger (HP)**

**Alright, somber is the beginning author's note for chapter two. Again, I'm really sorry! **

**So this is the chapter where she remembers her name! Yay! And also if you're reading this, thank you! You will get acknowledged for favoriting, following, or reviewing. Also, this chapter should be shorter and is in the POV of Minho. I will not be doing many of these chapters narrated by him, but I felt like it was important to get an outsiders perspective on the main character. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: guess what? I don't own The Maze Runner! Surprise!**

Maybe watching the girl sleep is creepy, but I can't help but notice that she looks much more peaceful when she isn't awake. And I have nothing else to do. Newt and I agreed that the first shift would be all night, and then he would take over the next morning. I feel like I got the shuck end of the deal. When do I get to sleep? A soft moaning comes from inside the slammer. I spin around to face the tiny window. The girl tosses and turns restlessly on the floor. She's having a nightmare. We all get them, we just don't talk about them often. Now, they're just a part of life. But this is her first one. As I watch, she shakes her head and mumbles words I can't hear; her hands are in fists, clenched at her sides. I want to go in and shake her awake, put her out of her misery, but that is definitely not allowed. Plus, she can handle herself. Just because she's a girl, doesn't mean she gets special treatment.

I focus on the window again. Her curly blond hair is splayed all over the ground. It's pretty long. That will get in the way quickly, I note. Her tiny nose is wrinkled up; her pale face shows signs of anger and hatred. I wonder what's going on in that head of hers. Her red lips mutter words that are only important to her. She's tall and thin, but sturdy. She really would have been a great Glader if she wasn't girl. Not that I'm complaining. A blood curdling scream from inside tears me from my wandering thoughts.

"Get off me, you brute!" the girl screams. Now she's rolling around on the floor, as if she's struggling to win a wrestling match. Before my eyes, she slams her head into a wall and jolts awake. Ouch. Some wakeup call. A moan escapes her lips, and her small hand flies to the impact spot on her head. A small bruise is already forming.

"Look, know that you aren't happy in there, but that doesn't mean you get to go slammin yourself into the bloody wall!" I snap.

"Ugg," she groans, "Not funny, Minho. Not funny."

"Sorry," I mutter. "Do you need to see a Med-jack?" I ask. The bruise above her eye is growing.

"A what?"

"A Med-jack…oh, right. Somebody to look at the bruise on your head."

She shrugs. "I'm fine."

"You don't have to play tough with me."

"I said I'm fine."

"Okay," I look away in surprise. I always thought girls were wimps. Guess not. I turn back to the girl to find her glaring at me.

"I'm starving! What happened to the food I was supposed to get?" she angrily pouts at me.

I grin. "I ate it, Greenie."

Her mouth drops in shock. "YOU ATE MY FOOD? I'LL KILL YOU, MINHO." She tries to strangle me through the bars of the window.

I laugh and dodge her arms. "Kidding! Kidding! Frypan sent a delivery after you fell asleep." She stops trying to kill me. "Here." I hand an apple and a sandwich through the bars. She takes them and begins eating her meal like ravenous dog. "Wow. You sure were bloody hungry." She doesn't look up, but slows down.

"Thanks," she mutters through a bite of her apple.

"It's a good thing that we're friends, or I really would have eaten your food."

Her eyebrows raise, and she winces from the bruise. "You want to be my friend? I thought you were a tough guy who didn't have time for me."  
>"I didn't say that," I mutter, although I did act like a real shuck at the beginning.<p>

"Could have fooled me." She purses her lips. Her face wrinkles in a frown. "Sydney."

"What? I'm not Sydney." Maybe she is crazy.

"No. Not you…"

"You remember something?"

She slowly nods her head in quiet confusion. "It's-it's," she fumbles for the pieces of her past. "It's me," she says, her voice a tiny whisper.

"You? That's your name, huh?" It's actually a pretty decent name.

"Yeah." She grins. "Yeah!" she says louder.

"Sydney." I let the name roll off my tongue. "I still like Greenie," she shoots me a playful glare, "But hey, Sidney works too. Although, it is sorta long."

"Minho, it is two syllables."

I shrug. "I like Syd better."

"Syd." She tries it out. "Okay. Syd."

I grin. "Syd, welcome to the Glade." I pause. "Again."

She rolls her eyes and goes back to finishing her sandwich. I turn away and see Newt approaching, in the morning light. I peer in through the door to see Syd gently probing the bruise on her forehead. Maybe it really does hurt. "Be right back, Syd." I jog to meet Newt.

"Any updates?"

"She's still a girl, her name is Syd, and she woke herself up by banging her head on the wall."

"Obviously, good, and what?"

"Yeah, she rolled right into the wall during a nightmare, and now she has a huge bruise on her forehead. She keeps telling me she's fine, but I think she's lying." I pause. "I know she's lying."

Newt sighs. "Double check to make sure it's as bad as you think. I'll tell a Jeff that I'm bringing her in in a minute. You stay here with Syd, and I'll come back to take her to Jeff." I nod and head back to the dismal slammer with a frown.

"Hey, Greenie."

Her face appears at the window. "We've been over this," she says. She points at her chest. "Syd."

"I'm just teasing. But I may still call you Greenie, ya good for nothin shuck." She just rolls her eyes. "Hey," I remember, "I need to check your bruise."

"What? Why? I told you I'm fine." Her eyes flash.

"And I don't believe you. Now let me see it before you go to the Med-jack."

She purses her lips. "Fine."

She leans her pale face as close as she can to the bars of the restraining window. The bruise is just above her eyebrow and is turning a purply blue color. Before I know what I'm doing, my fingers are gently brushing the spot. She looks at me with her big blue eyes, but doesn't pull away. I brush it one more time, then pull my arm away. I honestly didn't think about what I was doing. It was just a weird impulse. She tucks her blond hair behind her ear and leans back from the window, I notice that her face is flushed. I don't say anything, but turn around to see Newt heading towards us.

"How is it?" Newt asks.

"Um, I think it's okay. I ain't a Med-jack, Newt."

He nods. "Minho."

"What, Newt?"

From the look on his face, I can tell that he saw me touch Syd's bruise. Shame burns on my face. Why did I do that?

"Minho, there may not be a rule, but I don't think-"

I cut him off. "Look, it was a one-time thing. I felt bad for her. Don't klunk your pants. It won't happen again." I snap. I turn away from Newt and walk toward Frypan's. I need to eat before I run the maze. I can't think about Syd. She's fine. Hopefully, we can both pretend that what occurred in the slammer never happened. I just need to forget about her entirely. But, at the same time, I don't want to forget. Not at all.

**Okay, this came out really cheesy. Oh well. Too late. I hope you liked it anyway! I think that I'm gonna slow down and do some fluff… If you have any ideas or things that I could change, I would love to hear them! And remember, all of your comments influence me greatly! So thanks!**

Quote of the day:

"Well, don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear." –Boggs (THG)


	3. The Decision

Chapter three:

**To the people that reviewed: for some reason I couldn't find your username, or I would have thanked you personally! But thanks so much! It means a lot that you read and reviewed! I too am excited to see how this turns out! And yes, I agree, Minho is awesome! To Runnow11: I am so happy that you decided to click on my story! I'm glad I made you laugh! (I love writing humor) And thank you so much for the helpful advice! I do have a rough plan, so don't worry, they won't be in a relationship for a while. (if ever) it means so much that you cared enough to help me out! So thanks again! I would also like to thank artpunkxX for favoriting and following and amycahill57 for cavorting. You guys inspire me to keep writing! I will try my hardest to update regularly! If you want, you can PM anytime! I love making friends!**

**Ok, so I am trying my hardest to not let this story move so quickly. I will put on the breaks and just do fluff for a while. K? K.**

**Disclaimer: Do I even need to say it again? I don't own The Maze Runner. **

So far, the Glade just keeps getting weirder. First, the terrible nightmare about someone attacking me. Then, Minho touching my bruise. I'm pretty sure that he didn't mean that in a romantic way. He doesn't seem like that kind of guy. And now, clumsy Jeff fumbling with the ointment that he's trying to apply to my bruise.

"Jeff, its fine. Let me do it myself." Truthfully, he's hurting my forehead.

"No, no. It's my job." He smiles at me and goes back to touching my throbbing forehead.

"Ow," I mutter.

"Sorry!" Jeff yelps. "I just… your face is kinda…" He grimaces.

"Oh, I know. I'm sure that my bruise looks bloody awful. I bet it's hard to look at. Disgusting, huh?"

"Um... yeah. It's turning blue." I wonder how he's a Med-jack if little bruises bother him.

"Thanks for treating it. Back to the slammer I go." I give him one more smile and walk out the door. I am greeted by Alby, who looks unhappy.

"I'm sorry I'm not in the slammer, I just had," I start. He cuts me off.

"You're fine, Syd. Just go back, and I'll send someone in a minute. The Gathering is going to start soon." Right. The Gathering.

"You're trusting me to walk there by myself?" I look at him warily. I thought I was a prisoner. Prisoners don't have free will.

"It's not like you can go anywhere," he says.

"Good that," I say, using some of the slang I picked up. He's trusting me. I can't mess up. Alby nods and briskly heads off in the opposite direction. I head back the way I came, worrying about my fate.

"Hello." A strangely flirtatious voice startles me, after I closed the door to the slammer, sealing myself inside the empty room. I jump and spin around to face a tall blond grinning at me through the bars. It isn't Newt.

"Um, hi," I say, unsure of how to react. "Who are you?" I back slowly away from the bars. I don't like the people here. They are too forward.

"I'm Ben. I'm here to guard you." He grins again.

"Okay, Ben. I have some questions." I gather up courage and step forward toward him. "Care to answer them?" He shrugs. "Great. First of all, why aren't YOU at the Gathering?"

"Simple. I ain't a buggin Keeper."

"What's a Keeper?"

"They're the shanks in charge of a certain job. Give instructions, attend meetings and stuff. I guess. I'm not really good at descriptions." He smiles sheepishly at me. What is with this kid and smiling?

"That's fine. I just need answers. Alright, what IS this place? I mean, what's beyond those enormous stone walls? Is there danger out there?"

"Well, it's a maze. The Runners…they search it every day to find a way out. No exit has ever been found. But, we won't give up. I know we won't. As for the danger… well there's creatures out there…I can't tell you about them yet… you're not… ready." He speaks hesitantly.

"Wow. That's, um, horrifying." Images of all the horrible mutants that could be out there float through my mind like another nightmare. I shake off the images and continue to probe Ben for answers.

"Alright, Ben, answer me this. Are you keeping me in here, or someone else out?"

He pauses, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. "Both."

"What do you mean 'both'?"

"Well, you can't leave, so I gotta keep you here, but also, Alby doesn't want any other boys to hang around you constantly." He shuffles his feet awkwardly. Clearing his throat, he mutters, "You know, hormones, and you being the only girl and all. But," he says suddenly, "I'm sure it's only temporary. It's not like he can keep you in here forever, you'll have to interact with everyone at some point."

"Yeah. If he doesn't bloody kill me," I mutter under my breath. "I don't really have any more questions."

"Okay," he says simply. I head over to the tiny bench in the corner. It isn't big enough for sleeping, but I can sit on it comfortably. My brain is overwhelmed with the ton of useful information I just received. Keepers? Creatures? Maze? Needless to say, I'm worried. I don't want to die. Minho and Newt will stop the council from making any bad decisions, right? I'm left to wonder and hopelessly worry, while holding my head in my hands.

For the next twenty minutes, I'm left to ponder about what will happen to me next. Life here in the Glade wouldn't be great, especially as the only girl, who also only has one friend, but I would definitely prefer it to a torturous death. I hear the sound of running footsteps heading in my direction. I perch on the edge of the stool, my knuckles white from gripping the edges. I hear Ben discussing something with someone who just approached. It sounds like Alby. I creep to the door to listen in.

"How is she?" Alby asks quietly.

"She's fine. She's a curious little shank, she is." I can almost imagine him grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you tell her anything?"

"Only a few things about the Glade."

"Good. We'd better get her out here, so we can tell her what we decided." The quiet pounding of a fist on the door lets me know it's time. I don't answer. I can't. I just know that they'll do something terrible to me. The moment has come and I can't escape it. But I may be able to prolong it. I clamor to the back of the small room and huddle in the corner.

"Syd! You can come out!" I don't answer. A few muffled voices come from near the barred window. "Syd?" I want to scream and yell at them to go away. All that comes out is a nearly inaudible sob. The knocking on the door once again commences. "Syd, come out. Or we'll send someone in." I don't make a move for the door.

"That's it." I hear a rugged voice say. As the door swings open wide, I recognize the person as Minho. He sees me in the corner and slowly approaches me, I can tell he is worried by what he sees. I'm sure I'm a sight. Dirty clothes, sloppy hair, my nose running and my eyes leaking small tears.

"Syd," he quips cautiously, "Syd, what happened? What's wrong with you?"

"Everything," I growl. "You're here to take me somewhere to die."

"You don't even know what we decided. You've gotta come out. Or I'll make you."

"Minho, I don't want to die." As I say it, a single tear rolls down my cheek. I may be feisty, but I'm not made of stone. I'm worried and scared.

"I know, Syd, I know." He pauses. "Come on."

I know I have no choice. I don't want him to forcefully take me outside. I am not strong enough to put up a fight. Minho reaches out a hand and gently pulls me to my feet. He lets go, and I wipe my nose and follow him out the door. It doesn't take long to notice the crowd of boys that waited for my arrival. I look to Alby. He nods and walks toward me.

"Follow me."

I follow him to the biggest building. The only people that come inside are Alby, Minho, Newt, myself, and a bunch of other boys that I don't know. I assume that they are the other Keepers. No one else is allowed to enter. Alby clears his throat.

"Sit." He says. I oblige him by gently sitting on a wooden chair. "Now, Syd, I'm sure that you're wondering what we have decided." I nod my head. He continues. "Because we aren't sure if you should be here, we have decided that you must be put to a test." I nod, but don't understand. My heart beats faster. "You're trial will be this: today, before the doors close, you will be sent into the maze with a dagger." My eyes widen in terror. "If you can keep yourself alive until the doors open in the morning, you will be welcomed into the Glade. If not, then we'll know that you were a simple mistake made by the Creators." I hear a shrill scream from someone, only to realize that it's me. I don't know what's in that maze, but I know it can't be good. The way the boys look at me, their faces full of pity, I know that it's unlikely that I'll last through the night.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…I feel like a real author… with cliff hangers and death… Anyway, for those who care, I will be updating soon. So, yeah, thanks for reading! **

**Quote of the day: "I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt!" –Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean)**


	4. Tips and Banishment

Chapter 4:

**199 views! Yay! I'm really hoping this chapter doesn't come across as cheesy… Okay, it should be short...so again, so sorry for the cheesiness… you will just have to deal…**

**Okay, acknowledgement time! Thank you to That Shuck Griever for favoriting me, my story, and for following me and my story! It means a lot! Also, thanks to Spectrobes Princess for favoriting me! You were my inspiration! Thanks to BigBrains for favoriting and following this story. And now for the responses to my reviews: **

**Lovely Unicorn: I feel bad for her, too! I will try to update as fast as I can! **

**Runnow11: ****J****surprise. I decided to change up what would happen if a girl entered the Glade. Thanks!**

**Sydney: I know, but I feel like guys are dumb enough that they might do that! It seriously made my day that you said this is one of your favorite stories! Thanks a million! It's so cool that Sydney is your real name! It's so pretty!**

**Serena: I totally understand your rant. I kinda couldn't believe I did that… but I wanted to be different! I hope you enjoyed it anyway!**

**Sorry if I missed anyone!**

**Disclaimer: I am so sick of saying that I don't have ownership of The Maze Runner…**

I don't remember much about the next few minutes after finding out about my death sentence. Everything is fuzzy, blurred. I screamed a lot, I think. And I'm pretty sure I lashed out at the boys sitting near me. My weak fists pounded the poor shank next to me. It isn't fair. None of those boys have a right to shove me in that death maze.

When my vision clears, and I regain control of myself, I simply stare around the room in bewilderment. How could they let this happen to me? Surely, there's some other way. But no one speaks up in my favor. No one at all. I am left to fend for myself. I wipe the remnants of tears from my eyes, and stand up firmly. I take one last glare around the room. I can only hope that some of these boys feel remorse in sending me to my death. I leave the silent room behind, sprinting as fast as my legs can carry me. I ignore the scuffle and clamor in the building behind me. In my final moments here, I want to be free.

I dash through the Glade, earning strange looks from other Gladers and heading toward the creepy forest I glimpsed earlier. I only hear a few steady footsteps behind me, and assume that not many boys are giving chase. As my footfalls reach the edge of the forest, I risk a quick glance behind me, only to see two boys in the distance that I left in the dust. Then again, I had a head start. Without hesitation, I plunge in the forest, through the thick foliage and falling leaves. My eyes spot a clump of ferns large enough to hide my whole body. I head for the green plants and launch myself in their midst. I do my best to slow my heavy breathing. I know that I can't stay here, but for now, I simply enjoy my moment alone.

In mere minutes, my heart sinks at the sound of heavy footsteps crunching leaves nearby. Every inch of me longs to pick up some rocks and throw them at the person who dared to follow me here, when I so obviously want to be alone; but, I force myself to remain quiet, my fingers still.

"Syd?" Minho's voice rings through the trees, angering me even more. He inferred that I wouldn't die. And here I am, awaiting the moment that I will be banished to the maze. I itch with silent hatred for this boy.

"SYD!" His voice has reached a new level of urgency. As much as I am mad at him, I find it hard to not reveal myself. "Syd, where are you? I just want to talk. I'm…I'm sorry."

"I'm over here." I hear my forlorn own voice drift out from the ferns. I hadn't even decided to answer. But, I guess he would have found me eventually. I see his body crash through the trees. His gaze combs the woods until he spots my head peeking above the green ferns.

"Syd, we need to talk," He says, his eyes meeting mine.

"About what?" My voice is devoid of emotion. He practically lied to me. How does he expect me to trust him?

"The maze. I can help you. Give you information."

"I don't want it."

He tries to mask a look of shock and hurt. "You need it."

"I can do it on my own." Inside, I know I can't.

"Is this because I couldn't stop their decision?"

I look at the ground, saying nothing. My silence is answer enough.

"Syd," his voice hardens. "I tried. I really tried. Alby's decision is final. I couldn't get enough people on my side."

"You lied to me." The hurt in my voice is barely hidden.

"Syd, I said you didn't know what we decided. I didn't say it wasn't bad."

"I still don't your help."

"Yes, you do. I won't take no for an answer. I know that maze like the back of my hand. We don't have much time. Let me help." He pleads with his eyes.

"Why? Why do you want to help me so badly?"

"I said I was your friend. I meant it. I'm getting you out alive."

After a moment of indecision, I decide to give him a second chance. "Ok, fine. What do I need to know?"

He looks relieved. "Well, the important thing to know is what you're up against. In this case, I'd say you have to worry about one or two grievers."

"Grievers? You mean those creatures that Ben wouldn't tell me about?"

Minho sucks in a breath. "Yeah. That's them. They're vicious. All they want is to sting you. You can't let that happen."

"But how can I stop them? How do I keep them away from me?" Worry fills my voice.

"Listen, Syd. Run, fight, hide, do whatever you have to do. Just don't let it inject you."

"Okay, so just like stab it with my dagger repeatedly?"

"I wouldn't do that. You would have to be too close. Depending on how good your aim is, I would do a long distance throw. Maybe climb some ivy on the walls. Make dozens of twists and turns. Just make sure you can find your way back to the walls by morning."

"Okay," I say, feeling more confident than I have in a while, "So, what do they look like?"

"Um," he says, "Well, they're pretty big and have teeth and are squishy and have tons of metal appendages. I can't really describe the horror of them myself. You won't truly know until you meet one face to face."

"Ugh, great. Up close and personal."

"Ha. Yeah."

We smile. But suddenly, the overwhelming feeling of fear comes rushing back in unexpectedly. I drop to me knees and gasp. A muffled sob escapes my lips. No matter how many pointers Minho gives me, I know that I'm not coming back. How can I? There's creatures out there, waiting for me.

"Hey, hey. Look at me, Syd. Look at me." I raise my watery eyes to his. "What's wrong? A minute ago, you were fine."

"Minho," my voice breaks, "I-I don't think I can do this."

He sits down on the leafy ground with me and looks me in the eye. "If I didn't have faith that you could do this, I wouldn't be here giving you help."

"But, but I'm just a girl who has no idea what she's doing!"

"Well, I'm not giving up on you just because you're a girl."

I give a weak smile. "Thanks. And thanks for being my friend."

"Hey, you really needed one."

"Yeah…" I trail off as I see a figure in the distance. The boy's evident limp gives him away. It's Newt. "Why are you the only one here, anyway? Did they send you to get me?"

"I'm the fastest and I saw you sprint here. So I volunteered to come get you. Plus, I figured you would fight anyone else tooth and nail."

"I almost threw rocks at you, ya know." He raises his eyebrows. "But I didn't." He just shakes his head. Newt is ten steps away. His expression is a mixture of determination and pity. I know what's coming next.

"Minho, you were supposed to bring her back ten minutes ago." Newt's voice isn't angry, just sort of tired.

"Sorry, she needed a talking to. I had to convince her to not throw rocks and to just listen to me," Minho says.

"Liar!" I slap him with a fern.

Newt ignores our banter. "Come on, both of you. Alby is waiting." I keep my cool and slowly stand up. As a trio, we walk silently toward one of the openings in the enormous stone walls. There are boys with sticks surrounding the entrance. I shudder with fear and approach Alby.

"Here." He shoves a small dagger into my waiting hands. I know that this alone will not deter the grievers.

"Thanks," I rasp. Minho shuffles me toward the entrance.

He whispers inconspicuously into my ear. "You can do it. Just stay alive. When the doors open again, I'll be waiting." I don't even respond. My brain is on overdrive.

Ably steps amidst the boys to make a speech. "This girl is being tested on her ability to survive and work hard. Should she survive, she will find her place here amid the Glade. If not, she wasn't meant to stay here." With a nod of his head, he finalizes his jarring words. The boys around me pick up their sticks. As I watch, they point them at me. Alby gives the command, and the boys step forward as one. The sticks force me backwards toward the mouth of the maze. I frantically scramble around, but there's nowhere to go but in. Sealing my fate, I step towards the maze, as the heavy doors begin to slide close. The boys move faster until my feet are in the maze, and the opening is closing. A scream ripples through my throat as I realize that it's truly happening. In the visible sliver left of the Glade, I see Minho shaking his head at the injustice of it all. And me, seeing the last glimpse of hope that I may ever see, being shut out by the stone walls of my tomb.

**Okay, so how was it? I would love to know! People who review, favorite, and follow, thanks so much! I tried to upload this earlier, but my tablet died, so I couldn't. Sorry! So I have some questions. First, does anyone know how tall the maze walls are? It's important for an upcoming chapter, and I can't remember. Second, are there any things that you would like to see happen in future chapters? I may consider them! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I loved writing it! Don't forget that you can PM me! Chao!**

**Quote of the day: "You're killin' me, Smalls!" –Ham (The Sandlot)**


	5. Desperately Brave

Chapter five:

**Okay, so I have decided to split Syd's time in the maze into two short chapters. Also, unfortunately, I will have to change to updating only once or twice a week. I feel like it may be on Tuesdays and Fridays. My school work, fan fiction, drama, and youth group are getting to be too much to handle at once. So the updates will slow down, but the story will continue! **

**Acknowledgements:**

**Thanks to Lovely Unicorn for following my story and me and favoriting mystery and me! I appreciate it! Thank you Mystic Rosewood Falls for following and favoriting my story! **

**Review responses: **

**Lovely Unicorn: Sorry! But unfortunately, you better get used to it! It's great to hear that you're excited!**

**Sydney: Okay, so here's the rundown. I loved your idea! I mean I really, really did! However, by the time you reviewed, I was already working on the next installment… so I already had a plan! But, you'll notice in the next chapter, that I used your idea about the vines. And she does explore the maze to find a way out! I am so happy that you care enough to keep reviewing! I would love to hear more ideas!**

**Serena: I'm glad you like it! And her encounters with Minho are probably my favorite parts to write! I will definitely write more! **

**Sorry if I missed anyone!**

When the doors finally close, my terrors creep in and overtake my mind. I let out all the screams I have held back. I sob until I have no more tears. I pound on the walls, as if by some miracle, they will open. My gaze settles on the dagger clutched in my hand. I could end it. I could take care of everything before a Griever came. Using all of my power, I shove the blade deep in my pocket. I am stronger than that. I have a chance to survive this. If I die, so be it. At least I tried.

Taking deep breaths, I try to piece together a strategy of sorts. My original plan was to damage the Griever with my dagger somehow, then bolt away while its attention is not on me. However, I don't feel comfortable with this plan. My dagger won't do much, this I know. If the Griever sees me, it is likely that I won't leave this place alive. So I'll hide. The ivy on these walls is thick; some clumps could even hide me if I curled up. As much as I am worried about committing to one spot, for now, it's my best bet. I sprint to a large pile of dangling ivy twenty feet away. I crawl in close to the smooth wall and pull the leaves around me like a large, green blanket. My breathing settles, but I can't calm myself down. If at any moment a Griever should appear, I would probably just panic and, well, get myself killed. Not exactly a good option.

The maze darkens, and I stay committed to my ivy patch, every once in a while fingering the dagger in my pocket. It's small, but it comforts me just the same.

Unexpectedly, my ears detect a funny whirring and clicking sound that I've never heard before. My heart races as I realize where those noises are coming from. My newest nightmare. A Griever. I shudder against the wall. I can't face this thing by myself. The noises grow louder and more consistent as the minutes drag on. And finally, through my layer of ivy, I see it. Minho was right. There was no way he could describe this horrific monstrosity by words alone. Its blubbery skin glides along the ground, pulled along by its creaking metal legs. It bares its teeth, worrying me that it senses my presence. As the great beast scuttles closer and closer, I can see the glint of the syringe that could sting me, if I make even one false move. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut as the griever passes. It moves along without noticing my shaking form amid the ivy. I don't let out my breath until its shadow has passed beyond the next wall. I almost feel a bit giddy. That's one griever that I won't have to worry about for a bit. But, I know that it isn't safe to stay hiding here. Above all else, I must get as far away from that thing as I possibly can. As I quietly tear the ivy away from my body, stand up shakily. With one final glance toward where the griever disappeared, I dash off in the complete opposite direction, leaving the griever, and the doors, behind.

About two minutes later, I am completely out of breath, and I realize my mistake. I didn't pay any attention to any of the turns I was making. I am hopelessly, utterly lost, in the heart of the maze. My head snaps left and right, my hair flicking around my wild eyes. _Calm down, _I tell myself. I'll worry about being lost later. I have to escape the grievers first. I take off running again, down a passage that I know I haven't run. For a moment, I feel exhilarated. There's nothing chasing me. It's just me and these walls. That brief moment of freedom ends when I hear the unmistakable sound of clicking and whirring following me. I don't stop. I just run harder and harder past walls coated in ivy. It won't catch me. Hopefully. My feet fly down a particularly dark passage. For a moment, I forget the griever; the deafening sound of the great walls moving is slightly distracting. I can't decide if the moving walls will help me or hurt me. Maybe, I could use them to escape the grievers. Or maybe, it will trap me or smash me. _Click, click. Whir whir. _I groan with frustration. I allowed the moving walls to hold my attention for too long, and now the griever has gained ten feet on me. I don't even scream as I continue to dash down the murky corridor. I am too focused and exhausted. I hear the griever speeding behind me, its metal legs clashing. As I near the end of the passage, where a turn should be, my heart leaps to my throat. There is no turn. Just a thick, stone wall. I frantically turn around, hoping to see a way I could pass the griever, but find nothing. This is where it ends.

Just as the monster draws up to attack, and I stand firm with dagger in hand, I hear a shouting, yelling voice, headed my way. _What? What's going on? Who's here_? _I'm alone in this maze. Right? _Wrong. A boy, slightly older than me, comes running around the corner, yelling. I am so confused and startled by this new development, that I drop my dagger.

"HEY! HEY, SHUCKFACE!" He's racing toward the griever full speed. _Who else is in this maze?_ He yells louder and charges the creature, completely taking all attention away from me. As if things couldn't get more stressful and confusing, the walls in our closed off section begin to advance towards each other, I watch them move in slow motion. Panic sets in. The walls are closing in, hoping to trap me between them. There's a griever that wants to inject me with poison. But the most mysterious thing of all, there's a strange boy fighting that griever. How on earth did this random kid get here? I look back to the pair, the boy dodging the serum, the griever retaliating with spinning blades and needles. I still have no idea how to escape.

"Syd! Syd, climb the walls! Hurry!"

Confused, I nod my head, once again facing the cold walls head on. I can't climb these. They are moving, and the ivy wouldn't hold my weight. But, I can't shake the feeling that there's something about them that I'm overlooking. The gap between the walls spans only six feet. They are moving so slowly, you can barely tell that they're moving at all. An idea hits me like someone flipped a switch. I ready myself to attempt the craziest idea that I've ever had. I have to try. The walls are finally close enough together for my plan to work. I firmly plant one hand on each wall, purposefully gripping grooves in the stone. Then, I place each foot on a wall. I am holding myself a few inches off the ground. Difficult? Yes. Possible? Totally. I take a deep breath and look at the boy who is sacrificing himself for me. An eerie feeling washes over me; he knew my name. Without any more thought, I heft all of my weight to my hands, then to my feet. I begin the climb.

Slowly, and steadily, I lift my body further and further from the ground. _I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it! _My moment of relief fades as the walls grow closer. If they close while I'm climbing…

A shudder from the left wall throws off my balance, and I struggle frantically not to plunge into the darkness below. I can still see the boy with bleachy hair fighting the griever in another part of the maze. It shows me how truly high I've climbed. But I can't stop here. I climb and climb, until my hands are sore, and my legs are shaking uncontrollably. At last, I reach the top of the mighty wall, and breathe in my victory like a breath of fresh air. For a moment, I sit silently on the top of the wall. I made it.

But only because of that boy. I can't even repay him for his help. I can't tell people in the Glade about him. I was supposed to do this alone. They might think I went crazy and imagined this boy. I can't waste any more precious time. I'm not sure where to go. I can't see the doors from here. Just as I'm about to settle on heading to my left, the boy cries out to me.

"RUN, SYD! RUN! DON'T LOOK BACK!" His voice ends with a shrill scream that sends chills through my blood. I have to go.

With one final glance at the boy I wish I knew, I turn to my left. And I run.

**Okay, so here we have another plot twist that I think I am the first to try…so does anyone know the height of the walls? It's really, really important for the next chapter! I need help, guys! Also, don't forget to tell me if you have an idea that you want me to consider! I would love to talk to you! Sorry for any typos! I will try to update on Friday! 3**


	6. Escaping the Maze

**Okay, so this is the chapter where Sydney escapes…sorry, if you hadn't figured that much out…there wouldn't be much of a story if that didn't happen…also, I have been having random free times and busy times recently, so I got this finished early. I may update this weekend instead of Tuesday…I don't know, my schedule is crazy! So basically, I'm saying, I said updates would be on Tuesday and Friday, now I'm feeling like just expect it twice a week. Okay, got that out of the way. Also, are my author's notes too long? Tell me if they are too long!**

**Acknowledgements: Thanks to iristmr for following and favoriting my story! And thanks to May a Chance for following my story!**

**Reviews:**

**To all of you who reviewed: guys thank you so much I just cant even right now like I'm using fangirl speech and I just did a happy dance and all of your reviews were so positive it just made my day so thank you for that**

**Lovely Unicorn: Thanks! I hope it lives up to your expectations!**

**Runnow11: Thank you so much! I'm really, really happy that you like it! I will try to update on Tuesday!**

**Sydney: I'm so glad you like it! I can't tell you yet! ;) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ANSWERING MY QUESTION! THAT WAS SO HELPFUL. Also, I used your vine idea in this chapter… :)**

**Serena: :) I was happy to hear that you were sort of fangirling over this. Also, I will be using your idea of mistrust in the next few chapters. The other Gladers will have to earn her back. For your second review: thank you sooooo much! I try to make Sydney as realistic as possible. It seems like in many other fics, the girl character is as tough as nails with an attitude to go, and has like no emotions. I am like 99% sure that it's impossible to be that way! I'm glad you're happy to wait for me! Thanks a bunch!**

Turns out, running on a skinny, stone ledge that's approximately 100 feet above the ground is way more difficult than it seems. Every few feet, I stumble and fling my arms out to steady myself. Besides the fact that the ledges are thin and uneven, my instability has something to do with the gruesome scene I left behind. I feel heartless leaving a boy behind to fight a griever alone. _How could I do that?_ I should have stayed, maybe found my dagger and helped him out. I don't have any right to run away, while he stays helpless on the ground.

I pitch to the left as the wall beneath me rumbles. I fall hard on my knees and grip the sides of the rough wall with bloody fingertips. I can't fall. I can't fall. I have to stop thinking about the kid I left behind. It's too late. I force myself to my unsteady feet once more. I take off, running like I never stopped. I want to slow down, but I can't. At any moment, a griever could detect me and climb the wall. I wipe my hands on my pants, trying to rid them of the dark blood oozing from the gashes on my hands. Climbing the wall was rough, but if I had slowed down to look at my hands, I would be a pancake.

At the next turn, I hesitate. _Left or right? _Going against my instinct, I turn right. I have gone left too many times. I fumble for my footing once again on the turn. If I continue to stumble like this, I may find myself desolate on the bottom of the maze. I tremble at the thought.

I run for what feels like days, but was probably only an hour or two. Any time I hear a clicking sound, I head the exact opposite direction. _So far, so good. _With every tremor of the wall, my agitation with this maze grows. I feel like I'm going crazy inside. _I gotta get out. I gotta get out. _Nothing but survival matters.

The wall beneath me groans, just as a clicking noise from bellow follows my footsteps. Out running it will only work for so long, I fear. I look down to see a griever gaining ground on me. It has not yet attempted to climb the wall. I run harder, faster. I risk a glance at the creature. It is clawing at the ivy on the wall, using the cracks between the stone to make its way up the wall. I can't believe it. It's climbing the wall. I am still not safe.

Left. Right. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left. I make multiple turns, make a futile attempt to lose the beast. It is higher on the wall now, close enough that I can see the needle on its syringe. Panicking, I look around for another way escape. The only way is to jump. Now the griever is thirty feet below me on the wall, and here I am trapped on the top.

Or maybe not. For the second time tonight, an insane idea winters my mind, and I cling to it, like my last hope. I am ready to try another crazy idea in hopes of freeing myself from this unforgiving maze.

I wrap my fingers around a vine that hangs from the wall I'm standing on, to a wall positioned ten feet away. I have to yank about twenty times to free the vine from my side of the wall, reassuring me that it will hold my weight. I ignore my own blood that coats the vine. Without another thought, I plunge off of the side of the wall, bloodcurdling screams echoing from my throat. _I am totally going to die. _

As my body swings precariously toward the rock-hard wall, I put my feet out, so that my body doesn't slam into it. My combat boots dig into the cracks to steady myself. Just as the vine breaks free from the wall, threatening to take me with it, my scarlet stained fingers throw themselves just over the top of the wall. I dangle there, like bait on a line. Breathing hard, I use the rest of my strength to pull myself once again to the top of the maze wall. A maniacal laugh escapes my lips. Then, I sob and sob. I press my face against the top of the wall and cry._ What's going on? _This maze. It's driving me insane, even without being stung by a griever.

Speaking of the devil, I hear a muted whirring noise from the other side of the wall that I just bravely leapt off of. Sniveling and wiping blood, snot, and tears onto my clothes, I pick up running again. Exhaustion threatens to overtake me, and several times I think about giving up. I press on.

I am so sick of making turns and feeling lost. The echoes of angry grievers bounce through the maze, keeping me on my toes. I feel ill and overwhelmed. When I get back to the Glade, assuming that I don't die on the way, I am going to do some serious damage to those boys. Blood is dripping from gashes that I didn't know I had, especially a particularly painful one on my forehead. There's another griever attempting to climb the wall below me. I can't switch walls again. This time, I will have to outrun it. The sky is still a thick with darkness, but I have hope that soon, I will escape this treacherous trap.

The griever chasing me is thankfully a stupid one. It can't climb to the top of the wall without tangling its claws in the ivy, or crashing to the ground. I hope it doesn't get smart and figure out a way to reach me. While I'm running, I look around for loose pieces of rock on top of the maze. When finally spot one, I quickly stop, pry it free, and lob it over the side, hitting the griever precisely on the head. With a shriek, it plummets to the hard dirt below. I sprint away, stumbling as I go, hoping that I lost it for good.

Thoughts of the mysterious boy haunt me, as I explore the top of the maze, looking for a way out. He certainly didn't squeeze in after me when the Gladers forced me to enter. I would have seen him. And I haven't passed another exit. He can't live out here. I wonder to myself if the Creators sent him. It seems unlikely that they would send a boy directly to the maze. In fact, none of those solutions seem plausible. As I mull over his appearance in my head, I sense something familiar. His bleachy blond hair, his ocean blue eyes, and something about the way he carried himself all seem to remind me of something. _But what?_

I cry out as I almost run off the edge of the wall. I can't risk distracting myself like that again. The familiar sounds of a griever stalking me dishearten my entire being, and bring me back to reality. I'm not out of this maze yet.

I run for ten minutes straight. I know that if I don't escape soon, I will never leave this place alive. I am almost too tired to run in a straight line, which is frightening. Looking to a wall on my right, and ignoring the ominous noises from below, I notice a strangely straight crack directly down the middle of the wall. There's an excited thump in my chest as I see a large pile of shredded ivy a few yards to the left. I recognize it as the place I first hid. I croak out an unintelligible noise. _I _did _it. I _found _the doors. _I'm so close.

I feel as though all of the aching exhaustion has leaked from my body. I sprint to the cracked wall just a few turns away. As I'm about to reach it and look down, a noise from the ground startles me. It's the boy. And a griever. They are battling; the griever trying to climb up to me, the boy deterring his process. I stop. This is my second chance. I could climb down. Maybe keep him alive. The other half of me strongly suggests that I climb down the opposite side of the wall, into the Glade, where there's safety.

I stand there for a moment. I don't know what to do. If I go help him, chances are, I'll die. If I go down the other side, I'll be safe. For good. I watch the pair fight, their skills evenly matched. But mostly, I watch the boy. It's his fate I am choosing, not my own.

Unexpectedly, the boy turns his pale face to look at me. For just a moment, it feels as though everything freezes. Our eyes lock. He senses my dilemma; and he decides for me. Without looking away, he nods at me. Giving me permission to go. And though it shreds me inside, I nod back, and finish sprinting to the doors. With a final, teary glance at the boy who saved me twice, I slide over the side of the wall, gripping tightly, and begin my ascent into the glade.

My fingers are still slick with blood, so climbing is difficult. I fumble my way down the wall for what feels like eternity. My limbs are shaking, and I wonder how much longer I can go on like this. I have almost reached the place where the ivy begins to cling to the wall. By estimation, I have about thirty feet left. The ground still seems far away. As I reach for the next crack below me, my boot slips out from its niche. I frantically reach with my grimy hands for a crack to hold me to the wall. There are none. With no fingers secured, and only one foot still touching the wall, I lose all balance, and slip backwards from the wall.

I'm falling.

I can't scream, I'm so terrified. I reach for the ivy, and tangle it in my fingers to slow my drop. The wind whistles in my ears and my hair lashes at my cheeks.

_After all that, I may still die. I can't survive a thirty foot drop. _Funnily enough, as I plummet, I have time to think. _So this is my punishment for not helping the boy. I fall off the wall on my way to freedom. _

These are my final thoughts as the ground draws near. _I'm sorry, _is last thing that enters my mind, before everything goes black, and I feel as though I'm being shattered.

**Okay, so I feel like a lot of this was bloody fluff. And I literally mean bloody. Is there such a thing as violent fluff? Anyway, thanks to everyone for being so supportive. I am loving writing this story! Tell me what you thought about this chapter! I have a rough idea for the next chapter, but nothing is set in stone. So, if you have an idea, be sure to tell me! Also, does anyone want me to continue doing quotes of the day? I kind of forgot for a while. If you want them, please tell me! So anyway, that's all! **


	7. Mistrust and Dreams

**Okay, some recovery and fluff and such here. Nothing much. Aiming for a short chapter. So, ya know, the** **usual. I am so happy with the results of this story! Thnx for reading!**

**Acknowledgements: **

**Thanks to wolfmoon10 for favoriting my story. And thank you Kagome Echizen Fan for following my story.**

**Reviews:**

**Lovely Unicorn: I think you liked the chapter…I can't exactly tell! I'm sorry. Anyway, I'll try to update soon! And yeah hedgehogs are totally adorable. If I had one I would name it hedgie. **

**Sydney: I'm glad you liked it! I do like your idea, but I am gonna make here have some severe injuries. And I kind of compromised, like I had her wake up when the guys carried her to the Homestead. I hope you like it anyway! Thanks for the support!**

**Serena: actually, I thought that last chapter was supposed to be like chill, but it didn't end up that way. Ha. Imagine that. I'm sorry, but I am not spoiling it for you! (as much as I want to tell you who he was) I'm like super happy that you like this! I am trying not to let all of this go to my head! I actually had to ask my dad how many feet a person could fall without dying. I made it as intense as possible! And yeah, I think I'm gonna have Syd be recovering for a little while. And yeah newt=3 :) I will add the quotes again!**

My eyelids flutter open, as pain begins to flood in. Everything aches, my fingers and toes are numb. I cry out in agony, from the ache seeping into my broken body.

_The fall. The maze. The boy. _

It all comes rushing back to me, like an enormous wave. I try to stand up, but my hope dwindles as I realize that I can barely lift a finger, much less stand up. I feel trapped, like I was in the maze, but this time, I'm trapped in my own body. It is so frustrating.

Without warning, I feel my shattered self being lifted gently from the ground. I groan from the discomfort of all my injuries.

"Careful. She's awake." Muted whispers reach my ears, and I whimper quietly. I can only guess that the boys are taking me to the big building, or the Homestead, as they call it. A hazy form, possibly Newt, mutters assurances in my ear. His words do nothing to console me. The immunity to pain that I had experienced in the maze has vanished, replaced by pure torture. But more than that, the maze did something much worse to me. Much worse than physical injuries. It made me feel crazy. Slightly insane. The gruesome images from the maze replay themselves continually, filling my mind with horrific thoughts. I don't feel the same, like I lost something out there. All I really want is to be left alone somewhere.

I am laid down on a homemade cot, amid a sea of cotton sheets. Instantly, the Med-jacks set to work on reviving my worn out body. I am sure I have several broken bones.

"Hey, Syd. Hang in there. You did it. You did it." I recognize Minho's voice. It's lacking its usual sarcastic, flippant air. He's usually so feisty and snarky, but now, his voice is brimming with worry.

My thoughts drift to the boy that I left behind in the maze. I can't get him out of my mind. It's like he's a part of me now. I will never be able to repay the debt that I owe him for saving my life in that death trap. His death weighs heavy on my heart, a liability that I may never lose.

"Syd, you escaped. I knew you could. You'll be fine now. I promise." Minho's voice draws me back to reality again.

"You promise?" I spit weakly back at him. I am surprised by how much bitterness my voice holds. "That's preposterous. I almost DIED out there. I almost didn't come back. I may never be the same. Don't you get it? I should be dead…" His eyes widen at my words. I guess he was expecting me to be meek and mild if I got back, not hostile. I squeeze my eyes shut. I do not want to see their concerned faces or their worried looks. I don't want to watch them as they realize that I have changed, and may never be okay. Someone puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I want to shove the hand off of me. But there's something about receiving kindness from another person that allows me to just leave it there while I slip into another deep sleep.

_There's a boy sitting crisscrossed in front of me. His eyes are ocean blue and full of mirth. He's laughing. His happiness is contagious, and soon we are both laying stretched out on the ground, breathless with laughter._

_I feel as though I'm witnessing a memory in the form of a dream. As if on cue, the scene changes to another time and place. _

_It's the same blond boy standing by my side. We are older now. And perhaps it's this new perspective that makes me realize who I'm looking at. It's the boy from the maze. HERE. In my dream._

_This time, we aren't smiling. In fact, the whole mood of the situation feels depressed. He turns his eyes to me and I gaze right back, into those big oceans of blue._

_"__Sydney…" His voice drags my name into a whisper. We look at each other with teary eyes. _

_The part of me that's still awake aches for myself and this boy. I feel as though I'm experiencing this memory all over again, but I still have so many pieces of the puzzle pieces missing. I still can't remember who this boy is, but now know that when I met him in the maze, it wasn't my first encounter with him. In the dream, I am about to respond to him, use his name, but I feel the dream slipping away as someone pulls me into unwanted consciousness. _

I wake up back in the same cot, glaring furiously around the room. I was about to witness myself saying his name. I see Minho looking at me from the edge of the cot. In the corner, Newt waits patiently, and Alby stands outside the door with arms crossed.

"Minho!" I shout angrily, and he backs up. "Why did you wake me up? I was…" I trail off, realizing that I can't explain my anger rationally. "I…I mean…sorry." I shake my head and relent.

He still appears confused and somewhat hurt, but smiles anyway. "You have a right to be cranky, I guess. Grievers took it out of ya, huh, shank?"

"I do not want to talk about it," I say stiffly. His smile fades, but he gets the message.

"I just came in to check on you after your rough night."

I don't answer. I am wary of trusting him. He let them send me to the maze. A friend should never do that. And he must have known how hard it would be for me. But he let them send me in anyway.

"Syd, what's wrong? You're okay now," Minho says.

"I don't know if I'll ever be the same." I grip his arm and he glances down at my tight grip, but returns his eyes to me. "It was scary out there. You-you let me go." My eyes widen and my voice tightens. "Will I ever feel okay again?"

Minho gently pulls my fingers from his arm and puts his hand on my leg. "Syd, you have to believe me. I didn't want you to go in there. I didn't sleep at all while you were gone. I was worried about you. But now you have to listen." As he says this, he glances back at Alby and Newt, who have stayed silent this whole time. They nod, and he continues. "Sydney, you will never have to go back in that maze. You made it through once, and now you get to stay here. With everyone else in the Glade. I promise. I'm so sorry." He means it. I can tell. His brown eyes show nothing but genuine concern.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay." I pause; I feel as though something has been changed in my mind. It has been confirmed that the maze is nowhere in my future. I made it out alive, I'm free, safe, and one person cares. It's a start. "Okay." I say again. It's a new start. Will memories from the maze continue to haunt me? Yes. Will I still have trust issues with everyone, including Minho? Yes. But do I have a chance at making the best of my life in this glade? I believe the answer is yes.

**Okay, so I think I'm going to start making chapters a little but shorter, so I can write faster, so I can update more often. This chapter was hard to write for some reason. I felt like I was making Syd too wimpy, then too angry, and ugh she just wasn't cooperating with me! So I hope it is still okay. And also, I read somewhere that when British peeps use the word bloody, it's as bad as the f word, so I won't be using that anymore. *sheepish innocent smile* also, before it's too late to add one, what do you guys think of a love triangle? I wasn't planning on one, but I thought it might be fun to write… on the other hand, I don't want to cheapen my story. So, thoughts? Love you guys!**

**Quote of the day:**

**"****No shell over here, baby. Just slows me down" –The fat slug (Mub?) (Epic)**


	8. Where's the Shower?

**This chapter is some cute fluff with Newt. Like I said, I haven't decided if I want a love triangle, so this is just friendship. Sorry. Anyway, yeah, enjoy. Sorry it took so long to upload this. My teachers all decided to give tests and essays at the same time! I also had to deal with the tragic death of Shakespeare, the goldfish that I co-owned with my best friend. May he rest in peace. In her fish filter. Which is where the rest of his body got lodged after his friends tried to eat his dead body. *sniffle***

**Acknowledgements: **

**Thanks to FreyaHawthorne for favoriting and following my story. Thanks Dauntlessgladergroupa for favoriting my story and following me. Thank you PrincessEnchilada for following and favoriting my story and for reviewing every chapter! (And thanks to those of you who review every time!)**

**Reviews:  
>Serena: I'm glad you still like the story! I was worried that I was putting in too much fluff…and yet I continue to fluff my way through the chapters…I have not yet decided if I want a love triangle or not! I originally just imagined her with Minho…but I love Newt so…I don't know! Thanks for the compliment!<strong>

**Lovely Unicorn: Thank you! Enjoy!**

**PrincessEnchilada: I am simply going to sum up my reply like this: THANK YOU! And also, I will try not to disappoint you with the upcoming chapters and you're welcome!**

**Sorry if I missed anyone!**

The next time I wake up, not only am I hit with the ache in my limbs, but also by an overwhelming smell that isn't at all pleasant. I crinkle up my nose and try to find out where the stench is coming from. Jeff walks into the room just as I realize that it's me. My eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Hi, Sydney," He says with a smile. That's one of the things I like about Jeff. He always uses my full name.

"Oh, um, hi." I really wish I could shower or something before he tries to help me recover. It's only my third day here, but I seriously need to wash up.

"Okay, so here's the rundown of your injuries," he says. I brace myself for the worse. "As far as Clint and I can tell, both of your ankles twisted, your left arm and left wrist are broken, your right shoulder is dislocated, three of your fingers are jammed, that gash on your chin will need stitches, and your eye and that lump on your forehead are going to continually need ice. We're pretty sure that there's nothing internally wrong, either. Altogether, that's actually not that bad. The worst part is the broken wrist and arm. Everything else should fade quickly with only a little bit of pain." He pauses to take a breath. "I'm going to find Clint, so he can set your bones, shoulder, and fingers." As an afterthought, he adds, "And then maybe somebody can show you where the shower is." He seems apologetic, but I still glower at him.

Jeff leaves the room and I lean my head back on my pillow, exhausted even after a long sleep. I wish I wasn't so beat up from the fall. I want to go do something. _At least you're not dead. _My thoughts remind me that even though I'm uncomfortable, it could be a lot worse.

Clint strides in eight minutes later. The shy boy gives me an awkward smile and heads over to a small counter.

"This will only take away a little bit of the pain, unortunately. It will still really hurt while I'm setting everything," he says, while handing me two little white pills.

"Thanks," I mutter, as I down them with a glass of lukewarm water.

"Let's get started," he grunts, slowly rolling up his sleeves.

Twenty minutes and an enormous amount of pain later, my fingers and shoulder are back in socket, and only hurt a bit. My ankles, eye, and forehead have been iced and the swelling has gone down considerably, leaving only a numb, throbbing behind. My chin has been stitched; I was told it would leave a scar. Honestly, that doesn't bother me at all. And the worst of it all- my broken wrist and arm were set, and have been properly splinted and wrapped as neatly as possible. The setting of those bones, might I add, involved much yelping and moaning on my part.

"There," Clint says with a final flourish. "You're fixed. You can leave, I guess, there's no real use in keeping you here. Just make sure you come back often so I can check on you. Don't do anything stupid, shank. You don't need to mess yourself up even more." With that, he faces the counter and starts working, so I stroll out the door, feeling more free than ever. I can't believe that I was allowed to leave. I made it through a night in the maze and fell of off a huge wall, and less than a day later, I'm walking around.

As soon as I step outside, I run into a problem. I don't know my way around at all. My eyes sweep back and forth across the Glade. I see lots of little buildings, and many boys working, but none that I know. I can't exactly walk up to anyone. I smell so terrible, I would scare them away.

I settle on the plan of searching for a shower by myself. I wander helplessly around the Glade, shyly peeking into buildings, only to realize that it isn't the shower, and that lots of boys are staring at me, dumbfounded.

After walking around for a while, with no luck of finding even a bathroom, I sit down under a tree near some vegetable gardens. I relax there aimlessly for some time, picking grass, until I see a tall shadow looming over me. I glance up, worried that I will be taken back for more medical work.

I relax as I realize that it's only Newt. He looks down at me, with a trace of a smile on his lips.

"And what do you think you're doing out here?" He eyes me questioningly.

"Clint told me I could go. So I wandered around…and ended up here."

"Were you looking for someone?"

"Not exactly. More like a something."

"Ahhhh. I see." He smiles at me, and I find myself smiling too. "Would you like help finding this something, I wonder?"

"That would be nice," I sigh. He extends a hand to pull me up, and I take it gratefully, being careful not to bump my left arm. "Right this way," He says, and limps off, with me trailing behind him.

We walk to one of the only buildings that I didn't enter. It's rather small, which is surprising.

"There's a shower in there?" I question.

"Yeah, but there is one problem."

I wrinkle my brow. "Problem?"

"Yeah. There's no curtain."

My eyes widen in alarm. There is absolutely, positively, no way that I will ever shower without a curtain in a glade full of hormonal teenage boys. Ever. "No." Is all I end up saying.

"I wasn't recommending it." He stops and runs his hand through his light blond hair. "I've got an idea. Wait here." With that, he runs off, toward all of the hammocks. Within two minutes, he comes running back, a white sheet in his arms. "Hold this," he shoves the bundle of cloth into my arms, and takes off running in the opposite direction. I think I see what he's getting at. After I wait a few more minutes, Newt comes jogging back, this time a hammer and several nails in his hands. "I borrowed these," he mumbles, once again relieving me of the sheet.

We enter the building, which I am relieved to find empty. There's a makeshift shower head in the corner, and just as Newt said, no curtain. We head over to it, and Newt takes the corner of the sheet and nails it to one of the wooden plank that's part of the wall. Then he heads over and nails the other corner of the sheet to the adjourning wall, creating a sort of triangle shower. The sheet is perfect, because it's thick enough that you can't see through it, and tall enough that you can't see under or over it. I feel better about showering, but I am still worried about privacy. Newt reads my thoughts.

"I'll stand guard while you shower."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "How do I know that you won't look?"

He just looks at me. "Are you gonna get in, or what?"

"Just checking," I mutter, before ducking under the curtain.

I peel of my nasty clothes and pile them unceremoniously on the floor. I hope I never have to wear them again. I walk over to the showerhead, and mess around with the knobs until water comes out. It's not freezing, but it definitely isn't hot. I shower as fast as I can, being extremely careful of my injuries. I still feel uncomfortable, even with Newt and the curtain for privacy.

When I finally feel fresh and actually clean, I turn the knob, and the water flow stops. At this point, I realize that I have to put on my old clothes. _Gross. _As I'm walking to the pile, I hear Newt's voice.

"Are ya done in there?"

"Um, yeah," is my awkward reply.

"Minho brought you some clothes." Relief and warmth fill my heart.

"Great. Where?" In reply, a smile stack of folded clothes slides under the sheet. "Thank you." I investigate what was sent to me.

Obviously, they didn't have feminine underclothes, so I grab my old ones and wash them in the water. I wring them out time after time, until they are only slightly damp, and I slip them on. The rest of the clothes I wear are from the boys. There's a small, cotton, light green t shirt that fits well and is comfortable. The pants are brown and slightly tight, but it's the better than putting my old pants back on. The only other clothes are some socks that I put on under my combat boots. I brush through my long, wet, curly hair with my right hand. Unfortunately, I will have to do something about my long hair later. It's too long as it is. I sigh and step out from behind the sheet.

Newt is sitting casually on the floor and I approach him. "Hi," I say.

He smiles and appraises my new look. "You smell much better."

"Hey!" I pretend to be offended. "Seriously, though, thanks for helping me out. There's no way I could have done that by myself."

"No problem. If you need any help again, just find me." He smiles genuinely at me.

"I'll hold you to that," I laugh.

"I have no doubt that you will." We both nod our heads and sit quietly for a moment. I don't know what he's thinking, but what I think, is that I found a new friend.

**Hope that this was acceptable! Don't forget to tell me your ideas! 3**

**Quote of the day:**

**"****Foreign Contaminant." *robot voice* (Walle)**


	9. Occupational Therapy

**You have no idea how sorry I am that it's been a whole week since I updated. Sorry. I have been so busy and last night, my high school pulled an all nighter…so I am super exhausted…anyway. Short chapter. Hope it's okay. Love you all!**

**Acknowledgments:  
>Favorites: MrsAlyssaSangster (the story), nataliez (the story and me)<strong>

**Follows: MrsAlyssaSangster (the story), nataliez (the story and me)**

**Reviews:**

**Sydney: Thank you! I hope I didn't resolve the job thing too quickly. **

**Lovely Unicorn: Thank you, thank you, thank you! I have never seen any of those shows, (I don't have cable or Netflix) but I am interested in Supernatural and Psych. Do you recommend them?**

**PrincessEnchilada: Me too! Thanks and I'm sorry this is so late.**

"Hey," I call out to Minho, whose back is facing me. "Hey, Minho!" I shout a little louder.

"Oh, hey, Syd." He glances at me as I catch up to his long strides. "You freshen up nicely."

For that, I punch him in the arm.

"You are one of the most abusive people I've ever met," he says with a smirk.

"I have to take my anger out on someone." I pause. "Duh," I add as an afterthought.

"Why is that someone me?" he questions. I just roll my eyes and look away.

"Anyway," I say as we approach Frypan's. I'm starving; I haven't eaten since before I entered the maze. "I was actually just coming to say thank you."

"Um," he says, while picking up a bowl of delicious looking chili. My stomach aches at the thought of food. I gingerly pick up a steaming bowl of my own. "Um," he says again, drawing my thoughts away from the bowl of warm goodness in my injured hands. "Thank me for what? I haven't exactly been an awesome friend."

"For the clothes, shank. Thanks for the clothes." I roll my eyes.

"Oh, right. Well, no one wanted to smell your old clothes anymore, so…"

I whack him again. "Shut. Up. I am sick and wounded and you have no right to say I stink."

"Sick and wounded? Please. You're fine." He says with a smirk.

"You're right. It doesn't hurt as much as the bruise. That I got under _your _watch." I stuff my mouth with lumpy chili. Yum.

"Okay," he breathes. "You are a harsh, sarcastic, hopeless cause. Now, go."

"Where?" I pout. "Go_ where_? I don't know where anything _is_."

"_That's why you're going to get the tour, shank._"

"Oh," I mumble as I see Newt approach from the distance. "I see." As I watch him approach, I remember that I'm required to work here. I panic, because I know nothing about the jobs in this place. "Quick. Tell me what job I should or shouldn't get."

"You don't want Bagger or Slopper unless you like dead bodies and messes." I grimace. "Didn't think so," he quips. "You obviously couldn't handle being a Runner, but that wasn't an option anyway," he rudely points out. "You don't look strong enough to be a Builder, and definitely not with that mess," he states with a gesture toward my splint. "Blood doesn't look like your thing, so not Slicer. I can't imagine you as a Track-hoe…"

"So what's left?" The exasperation in my voice is evident.

"Med-jack. Which also involves blood. Or maybe…"

"What? What?" I cling to the possibility that I may still fit in somewhere.

"Maybe you could work with Frypan." I do a quick glance at the burly boy preparing everyone's meals. He doesn't look so bad, I suppose. And I wouldn't mind cooking.

"I do love food." I smile. A small smile plants itself on Minho's face.

"Go," He says. "The grand tour awaits you. Here's to hoping you aren't a Bagger." He raises his cup and I turn away chuckling.

"Hey, Newt." I nervously step towards him.

"Hello, Syd." We haven't spoken since I got out of the shower. "Let's go. Tour time." He grins.

"Newt, I don't think I have to even try out all of these jobs." I gesture with my broken arm. "For starters, I have a broken arm. And also, I don't think I'm cut out for much right now anyway."

"Syd," he sighs, "I wasn't planning on making you try any job. You're a girl."

"And what," I say, my voice icy, "Does that mean?" I may not be up to working now, but just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't handle a job like any other guy.

"It means," he says, ignoring my cold voice, and not losing his smile, "That I don't want you working out in the hot sun with a bunch of hormonal guys."

"So what can I do?" I ask, relieved that Newt wasn't saying that I couldn't handle the work.

"You're going to work with Frypan. Cooking. I hope that's okay. We don't have many cooks, so you'll be really helpful." He smiles. Huh. Minho was right.

"That's great. I'm happy to have a job!" I pause, "As long as there's no blood."

Newt laughs. "No blood."

"Great. Let's get to that tour!" In an effort to be enthusiastic, I pump my fist in the air. In the process, I accidentally bump the stitches on my chin. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow," I mutter.

"Oooh, ouch," Newt sympathizes, though I can hear suppression of laughter under his words.

"Let's just go," I say, my voice full of embarrassment. I am such an idiot.

"Alright, follow me, Greenie."

"My name is Syd," I interject, reminding him again and trying not to allow a sigh to escape my lips. This is going to be a long tour.

**P/B**

I collapse into a hammock of my own. The tour was long and exhausting. I was the center of attention everywhere I went. It seemed like all of the Keepers wanted to recruit me to work with them. Well, all but one tough looking guy. He just wanted me to leave, telling Newt that he didn't need to bother showing me anything about the Builders, because I would never be anywhere near them. The boy seemed to direct that last part at me, as if he were warning me to steer clear. I think Newt said that his name was Gally. I don't want to be near him anyway.

The fabric of my hammock is scratchy and smells funny. Alby insisted that I have a small, sectioned off area all to myself. It's like a little room, and slightly private. It's nice actually, to be away from prying eyes. I am grateful.

After my long day, I willingly let myself fall into the dark abyss of sleep.

_This dream is more frightful than the previous ones. My vision is distorted, like I'm watching through thick, blurry glass; everything is unclear._

_I watch my dream self shout out. For a moment, the dream becomes crystal clear. In that instant, I see the boy. The boy who appears in my dreams so frequently and died for me in the maze. I watch as he is forced into what I recognize as the box that brought me to the Glade. His eyes are wide with alarm, his muscles bulge, and his arms struggle to reach for me. In the memory, I pull against my own restraints, trying in vain to reach him._

_Before I can stop our captors, he is shoved into the box and the dream is slowly going fuzzy again. The last thing I expect to hear is my name, but it rings sharply through the dream. _

_"__SYDNEY!" The boy yells. As I try to make my mouth form a reply, the blood chilling screams commence once again._

Whimpering from this glimpse of my past, I wake.

**Okay, that was short. So I hope you liked it, and if you didn't then maybe you'll like the plot twists I have in mind. ;) And I put Gally in so... you're welcome. So anyway, I thanks for reading! I would love to hear from you! 3**

**Quote of the day:**

**"****On Wednesdays, we wear pink." –Mean Girls**


	10. A Hairy Situation

**I'm sorry guys, this whole school thing is throwing off my writing schedule. This was to be written earlier, but obviously I scrawled it out today. So I'm sorry. Also, another apology. The only people I will be personally acknowledging anymore are the reviews. I can't keep up with the follows and favorites anymore! It's sorta bittersweet. But thanks to everyone who followed or favorited! **

**Reviews:**

**Lovely Unicorn: Thanks for the recommendation! And thanks for rhea positive review! Glad you still like it!**

**PrincessEnchilada: I like Karen too! And Gally's okay…I felt like he needed to be there! Thanks a lot!**

**Jenna: I'm so glad you love it! Sorry this took so long… high school is just… ugh. It's totally fine, I'm weird too! **

**I hope I didn't miss anyone! I love you all!**

"No, Syd! You don't chop onions like that!"

After my nightmare, I woke up sweaty and alone. When I peered out of my room, I saw the sun, peeking out from the vast, blue sky. I figured I might as well help make breakfast, and now, here I am, improperly chopping onions.

"Then how _do _you chop onions? Last I checked, there wasn't a proper procedure!" I snap at Frypan, my early morning irritation showing through. I'm trying to help, for Pete's sake!

Frypan lumbers toward me and plucks the knife from my hand. "Like this," he says with a sigh. He proceeds to chop the onion, making the pieces more delicate and fragile, but chopping harder with the knife.

"Okay, thanks." My hands reek and my eyes water. Who wants onions in their omelet anyway?

By the time I finish cutting up all the onions that had been piled before me, I wonder if the smell will ever go away. I stumble out from the kitchen, my eyes burning. Frypan sees me and waves me over.

"Here, Syd. Just serve these, then you can have a break." I nod, grateful to be out of the kitchen, and grateful for the promise of a break.

But when I see the long line of hungry boys waiting to be served, my heart drops a bit.

"Here," I muster out, while handing the first kid a plate. The process repeats. Smile, hand the omelet. Smile, hand the omelet.

By about the thirtieth omelet, I can no longer feign enthusiasm.

"Here," I sigh, wishing I was chopping onions again.

"Why, thank you, Syd." The voice is chipper. And British. I look up to see Newt, his eyes full of laughter. "Glad to see you're enjoying your job." He chuckles to himself.

"Not. Funny." He keeps smiling. "I signed up for cooking, not being a waitress!"

"Good that," Newt says, "Don't worry. The longer you work here, the better jobs you'll get."

"Whatever," I say, glancing at the impatient boy standing behind Newt.

Newt notices my gaze, and steps aside. "I'll let you get back to your job." He smiles and whistles as he limps away. "Oh!" he seems to remember something and turns back toward me. "Meet me by the edge of the forest later! Minho and I have a surprise for you!" He turns away again, without a further explanation.

I frown, puzzled. A surprise? That could mean anything.

The impatient kid clears his throat, snapping me out of my wondering. Disgruntled, I hand him his omelet. I hope it's cold.

As I serve the rest of the omelets, I can only wonder what surprise my two friends could have in store. _There's not much they could give me, _I think. Honestly, I am nervous about it. I like knowing exactly what's going on.

As I plop the final omelet into the hands of a grubby looking boy, I give a sigh of relief. I never want to see another omelet again. I pop back into the kitchen, to tell Frypan that I'm heading out.

"Hey, Frypan, I'm taking my break now!" My voice is a bit too cheery.

"Good that. Be back in an hour for lunch!" he calls. I inwardly groan. Why do we have to eat three times a day?

Instead, I shout, "Okay!" and head off in the direction of the forest.

**P/B**

"Oi! Sydney!" I see Newt and Minho beckon me from the line of trees.

"You're in for a real treat, Greenie!" I have given up on asking Minho to just call me Syd. The boy is a worthless cause.

"What _exactly _is the surprise?" Ever since the maze, I've been wary of surprises.

In answer, Newt produces a pair of ordinary scissors. He's got a devilish grin displayed on his face, and I'm even more worried.

"Wow, guys. Scissors. I'm touched, really." I smile at them, my words oozing sarcasm.

"Scissors aren't the surprise, shank!" Minho shakes his head, as if he can't believe my stupidity.

"Then what is?" I ask, utterly confused.

The boys simultaneously gesture toward a tree stump. Newt opens and closes the scissors. Everything clicks.

"OH, NO. THERE IS NO WAY I'M LETTING YOU GUYS COME NEAR ME WITH THOSE. UH-UH. NO WAY, HOSEA! NOT. GONNA. HAPPEN." I may need a haircut, but not from two teenage guys.

"Aww, come on, Syd! Trust us! You need a haircut, and I mean, how hard can cutting hair be?" Minho smiles, trying to reassure me, but I back up.

"No. I'm fine. I'll tie it back or something. You'll mess it up." Subconsciously, I reach up and finger my long, blond curls. It would be inhumane to chop them off.

"We're trying to help! We won't take too much off, I promise." Newt gazes at me hopefully.

Before I know what I'm doing, I've seated myself on the hard stump and crossed my arms.

"Be. Careful." I warn them. "I don't want to look bald. I don't want to look like a boy, I just need a trim," I emphasize.

"You got it, babe." Minho smirks.

"And don't call me babe." I hiss.

"You got it, Greenie."

I grumble and squeeze my eyes shut.

"You cut, I'll direct," I hear Newt say.

I reach up and stroke my long locks one last time. Before I have a chance to second guess myself, I say  
>"Go," and the clicking of scissors reaches my ears.<p>

After a few minutes of hearing,

"To the left."

"No not that much."

"Even it out here."

And, "NO! WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! Haven't you ever cut hair before?", I open my eyes. On the green grass around me, golden curls litter the ground, like rays of the sun. I risk feeling the left side of my head, the place they started. It feels very short, falling a bit below my chin. I wish I could see it.

Newt clears his throat, "Umm…" I sense worry in his voice.

"What? What?"

"Oh, nothing." He smiles. "It's just my turn for the shears." He gives a pointed look at Minho, who begrudgingly hands them over. I feel Newt resume trimming my hair, and another piece falls to the ground. Now, Minho is telling Newt where to cut, and I feel slightly reassured. I'm positive that everything is okay. We go on like this for twenty minutes.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO SHUCKS DOING?" The voice doesn't belong to Newt or Minho. My eyes dart up to see Jeff, his eyes wide as saucers. He observes the three of us, and the pile of hair on the ground.

"Um, nothing," Newt says, snapping out of our trance first. "What are you doing?"

"I was coming to check on Sydney's arm! Someone told me they saw her head this way!" He looks in bewilderment at our little trio. "What have you done?" he cries.

"She needed a haircut?" Minho's explanation comes out as a question.

"Does it look that bad?" I ask, suddenly worried about what my hair looks like after the past twenty minutes. My hand flies up, to find my curls left in uneven, chopped pieces. I scream. I look pleadingly at Jeff. "Can you fix it?" I can only imagine how terrible it looks. I release a small whimper.

"I can try," he says, determination alight in his eyes. "And you two," he says throwing a look toward Newt and Minho, "Go tell Alby what you did."

I can tell that they don't like being told what to do.

"We were just trying to be helpful," they mumble.

Jeff looks away and picks up the scissors that fell to the ground. I hear my friends' footsteps running toward the Homestead.

"Um," Jeff starts.

"Just tell me."

"It's going to be extremely short." He trails off.

"That's okay," I say through gritted teeth. "Just do it."

I squeeze my eyes shut again, trying to ignore the click of the scissors. _How could I be so stupid? I never should have let them touch my hair, no matter how much I trust them! I am such a dipstick!_

While I mentally beat myself up, Jeff quietly hums and snips away what was once beautiful hair.

"Done," he pronounces. I feel the breeze on my neck, a feeling that I am not accustomed to experiencing. I hesitantly lift my right hand to feel my hair.

It is almost all cut away. Judging by what my fingers feel, my guess is, it's maybe a little longer than Newt's. It's cut close to my head, and I can't find a single piece long enough to twirl around my finger. I feel a tear slide down my cheek, as I realize what I've given away. It will take years upon years to grow it back.

Unexpectedly, a fire lights within me. This is a new beginning. I have to make my own way here, and I have to be equal with all the other boys in this glade. With short hair, I can do more. It's a new me. And hey, maybe it looks cute! This new-and-improved Syd decides that the first thing she will be doing is beating up the two shucks that put her through this. I run my fingers through my short, freeing hair. Frypan will have to wait.

Right now, I have to go beat up my friends.

**Okay, I tried to make this cute. Hope you liked it! Tell me how it was! Also, do you guys care if I use personal quotes of the day (like things I've heard people say) or do you want me to just do ones from books and movies? Tell me your thoughts! Xoxo!**

**Quote of the day:**

**"GRACE HAS BOB'S DEAD WIFE'S HEART!" –Return to Me**


	11. RevengeSort of

**Okay, so I'm really sorry that this chapter is so late! What with school, drama, and, yes, the Superbowl, I haven't had time for much! So I hope this chapter is satisfactory, though it felt weak. My apologies. Thanks to all of the people who followed and reviewed! **

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"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" A war cry escapes my lips as I charge toward the boys who butchered my hair. "I AM GOING TO KILL YOU BOTH!" I shout, trying not to laugh.

Minho and Newt watch me with suppressed grins as I charge them. They won't be smiling for long.

The first one I reach is Minho. With a hurtling leap, I throw myself at him, tackling him roughly to the ground. In the process, I slam my face into his, and I can't help but notice how warm his skin his. Without another thought, I begin to pommel him with my small, uninjured fist. He will pay for the damage to my hair. Speaking of my hair, it honestly does feel great to have it not blowing in my face. Not that I will admit that or anything.

When Minho starts laughing, I stop punching. I'm obviously not hurting him. I roll off of him in disgust. A snicker grabs my attention, and now I face Newt, his face contorted with laughter.

"Your turn!" I yell, and fling myself at him. My arms wrap around his chest, and with an audible thud, we fall to the ground. "YOU RUINED MY HAIR!" I scream.

He laughs and dodges my weak punch. "Now I ruin your face!" With that statement, I pound my fist forcefully on Newt's eye. He groans and I feel satisfied that I actually caused pain.

"Syd, that shuckin hurt." He moans and puts a hand over his eye.

"Good," I retort, though I'm actually not that mad anymore.

"Good job, Newt. A black eye from a girl," Minho taunts with that ever present grin.

"I am not done with you!" I yell playfully and shove Minho to the grassy ground. We resume the same fighting strategy from earlier. Me punching, him dodging. We go on like this for a bit, until I finally land a lucky punch in his gut. He sighs in pain and I roll off of him, content with my win.

"Was that really necessary?" I hear Minho groan from beside me.

"You're a real shuck, you know that?" is my reply.

I actually feel fulfilled for a moment, until I see Alby walking towards us, always the bringer of bad news.

"Syd," his deep, powerful voice always sets me on edge, "Did you attack these two Gladers?" His words are infused with disappointment.

"Well, yeah, I mean, look what they did to my hair." I gesture with my good hand at my terrible haircut.

"You are aware that hurting other Gladers is against the rules, correct?"

The sinking feeling that I'm becoming familiar with floods in.

"Oh, yeah…" I trail off. There really is no mercy here. These rules were told to me only a day ago, and I've already broken one.

"I'm sorry, but that's another night in the Slammer for you." Alby gives me a meaningful glance.

"What about Frypan? He needs my help," I try to squeeze out a helpful excuse.

"Frypan will be fine." He looks at Minho and Newt, who are still rubbing their new injuries. "And you two, after you escort Sydney, we need to talk." With that, Alby walks away, his cotton shirt snapping in the wind. I notice that Newt doesn't appreciate being told off by Alby, and part of me regrets getting him into this.

"Sorry, guys," I mutter. "It wasn't supposed to get us in trouble."

"Its fine, Sid," says Minho, forcing a smile. "Do you think this is the first time that we've been in trouble?" He smirks, and I try to smile too.

"No, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

Without another word, we turn and walk toward the slammer, like it's still day one.

**P/B**

"I can't believe you're back in here," Newt mutters as he opens the door to the stony prison.

"Neither can I," I groan. "Not only is it smelly, dark and uncomfortable, but it's lonely!"

"You could sleep," Minho suggests halfheartedly.

"It's the middle of the day, shank."

"Just trying to help!" He puts his hands up in surrender.

I walk in begrudgingly, and the door swings in with the breeze, closing behind me. I walk to the window and hang on the bars, wishing that my company wouldn't leave.

"Why didn't you guys just leave my hair alone?" I complain.

"It was way too long, trust us." Newt tries to persuade me.

"If it weren't for this wrist, I would beat you to a pulp!" I threaten with empty words.

"I'd like to see you try," Minho says and stands directly on front of the bars. I want to say something, but for the first time in ages, I have nothing to say. We just stay like that for a moment, me searching his coffee colored eyes, and him staring into my depths of icy blue. I'm sure we would have stayed like that for longer if Newt hadn't cleared his throat.

"Oh, right," I stumble over my words, like a fawn learning to walk.

"Yeah, so, Alby wants to see us…" Newt says to Minho, who nods and turns away from my dwelling.

"Um, would you guys maybe come back later?" I instantly regret saying that and try to fix my error, "I mean, no, you don't have to, um, forget I said anything." I feel my face turning red.

"Syd, chill. We'll come back." Minho and Newt smile, and I feel slightly more at ease.

"Okay, I'll sit here and twiddle my thumbs."

I hear fading laughter mingled with lagging footsteps.

I fall back against the wall and sink to the floor. So far, the Glade is not my favorite place. I'm the only girl, I was shoved into a death maze, I got a job serving food, my hair got chopped off, and now I'm in the Slammer. Again.

The hot breeze blows through the enclosed space and ruffles the tiny bit of hair that I have. I hope Newt and Minho come back soon. All I can do is sit and think.

Dream:

_"__Listen, Sydney. When I go through the Swipe, I won't remember much. I'll probably just think you look vaguely familiar." The boy's voice is urgent and worried. "I don't know if I'll see you again." He nervously shifts his gaze around the room. "Don't open this until you really need to know. This will help you remember some things." He shoves a pulpy piece of paper into my hands. "Here," he says, leaning down. "Put this in your boot. In the secret compartment we made." _

_I nod and fiddle with the sole of my boot until it pops open, revealing a space just large enough for the paper to be concealed. I slip it in and close the compartment. My watery blue eyes meet his gaze._

_"__Sydney, you'll be fine. I know you." He speaks comforting words and pulls me into an embrace. "I love you, Sydney. I love you."_

_I repeat the words and squeeze him tight. I love him._

I jolt awake, head spinning. I must have dozed off despite the time.

Then I remember the dream.

And once again, I feel confusion, as though everything is caving in.

**Dun dun dun! Hahahahahaha… anyway I hope that was fine! I literally didn't even read over it before posting, so sorry about any typos… Tell me your thoughts! You guys are so supportive! Love ya! Oh, and apparently, it messed up the chapter title, so sorry. There was supposed to be dots in there...**

**Quote of the day:**

**"****I'M SINGING! I'M IN A STORE AND I'M SINGING!" -Buddy (Elf)**


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